


Breaking Bad: Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle.

by JamieTheBastard



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Albuquerqe - Wild Scenes: Psychotic Turnbuckles, Black Magic Woman: Santana, Blue Crystal, Cocaine, Colombian Cartel, Don't Worry Baby: Los Lobos, Gen, Pura De Venta: Brujeria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:37:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5745838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieTheBastard/pseuds/JamieTheBastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt and Jesse meet Colombian cocaine queen Santeria Silvera, and they thought Tuco Salamanca was bad news! A one off Breaking Bad short piece starring Walter H. White, Jesse Pinkman, Hank Schrader, Steve Gomez, Santeria Silvera, Ramon and Esteban, Badger and Skinny Pete, Mike and Saul as well as a voice from the future.<br/>Breaking Bad created by Vince Gilligan.<br/>Santeria Silveria, Ramon and Esteban created by Me.</p><p>This is my first attempt at writing real fiction, I find it a lot harder than writing in the screenplay format, so this is going very slowly as I want to do my best to do Breaking Bad justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Will The Wolf Survive?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during the show's second season.

The heat inside the RV was stifling, the outside temperature was pushing 120 degrees and inside it had to be at least 20 degrees hotter. Jesse had his earphones in and his Ipod volume cranked to the max, Walt could hear the tinny sound of some droning, monotonous hip hop song bleeding from the earphones. The trash the youth of today calls music, Walt thought, if it wasn't an atonal hip hop track Jesse was grooving on, it was some unintelligible heavy metal band, give me Kenny Rogers anyday, now that was music he could understand and appreciate. His partner didn't seem to be troubled by the heat at all, and every so often he would tap out a short rhythm in time with the track that was playing as he cut the Aluminum foil into small strips. Walt had to get out, he was sweating profusely, and he could hear the blood roaring in his ears in time with his pulse, the chemotherapy and the meds were taking their toll on his cancer ravaged system. The process was at a point where he could take fifteen minutes off. "Jesse" said Walt "I need you to watch the boiling flask, I have to take a break before I pass out", Jesse continues with his task, oblivious to everything but the music. "Jesse" Walt yells impatiently, he reaches over and yanks out the nearest earbud. "Jesse, I need you to watch the boiling flask I need a break or I'm going to pass out", Jesse looks at Walt with concern "You're not gonna die on me are ya Mr White, you don't look so good" Walt opens the door "Just make sure you take that flask off the heat in" he checks his watch "Ten minutes precisely", he leaves the RV and closes the door behind him.

Thank God thought Walt, we won't need clean suits and masks until the morning when it would be a lot cooler. He goes over to the drinks cooler resting in the shade and takes out a Soda, popping the can, he sits down heavily in the fold up camp chair and takes a long pull on the cold drink. He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes the sweat from his shaved head. The day had started off all wrong, first was the one way conversation with Skyler, when he and Jesse first started cooking he had to come up with elaborate excuses for being away from the house for three or four days at a time and yet this morning she barely listened to his carefully worked out cover story, flipping through the newspaper as she sipped her coffee. She had been cold and distant lately, Walt knew that she was mistrustful of him over Hank's revelation of Walt's second cell phone, and he knew she hadn't swallowed his pathetic attempt to cover up the fact of the second phone. Although he knew that Skyler had no reason to suspect the real reason for him having the other phone, she suspected him of having an affair and nothing Walt said could alleviate her distrust of him. She had just given him one of her forced smiles and said nothing as he kissed her cheek and left the house. Then his car wouldn't start and it had taken him twenty minutes of puzzled examination of the engine before he discovered one of the battery leads had come loose from the terminal, he was running late and Jesse was waiting at the meeting place in the RV when he arrived, after all the lectures Walt had given Jesse on the importance of strict timing and punctuality he was the one running behind.

Their recent abduction by Tuco Salamanca and his subsequent death at the hands of Hank was still playing hell with his emotional state and he got chills up and down his spine whenever he thought of how close they had come to being discovered by his brother in law. Damn it thought Walt, the cooks they had done, all the money they had made, all the stress of dealing with the psychotic, meth addicted Tuco, all for nothing. Hank had confiscated Jesse's share of the cash they had made selling to Tuco, and Walt's share had gone on the bills for the expensive cancer treatments he was receiving that their medical insurance didn't cover. Here they were back to scratch with Jesse recruiting his moronic friends, Badger, Skinny Pete and the fat one with the mohawk hair cut whose name he didn't recall, having to sell street deals for what Jesse calls chump change, at this rate it would take him years to earn the seven hundred and thirty seven thousand dollars he had calculated would be enough to cover his family's needs when he was gone. He wished he could just come straight out and confess everything to Skyler, if he and Jesse got caught now, there would be nothing for his family but shame and misery. Maybe it wasn't too late to accept Gretchen and Elliot's money, it would be a massive blow to his pride, but wasn't he man enough to deal with that for his family's sake? His conscience was screaming at him to get out before it was too late, but he reasoned it was already too late in a way, they had committed murder, in self defence admittedly but still murder, and as much as he didn't want to admit to himself, a small part of him was excited by his role as a purveyor of high quality crystal meth. He really didn't believe he could ever go back to being Walter Hartwell White, overqualified, respectable, boring high school chemistry teacher. His dark side alter ego Heisenberg was as much a part of him now as the mundane family man he once was. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the RV's door slamming open and Jessie stumbling out coughing and spluttering, clouds of white smoke billowing out of the open door.

"Jesus Jesse, I give you one simple task to perform, and you screw that up" yells Walt, as he covers his mouth and nose with his handkerchief, and enters the smoking RV. Squinting his eyes in the smoke filled vehicle Walt sees the smoke is coming from the trash container, where Jesse's discarded cigarette is smoldering amongst the waxed take out food containers and junk food packets, as he watches the smoldering pile bursts into flame. Walter grabs the flaming trash tin, burning his fingers in the process as he throws the flaming tin outside. "Shit, shit, shit" Walt yells, "What have I told you about smoking inside the RV, are you trying to blow us up? As well as the small fact that I have lung cancer, does that not register inside that object inside your head that passes for a brain?" he angrily kicks the smoking trash can. Jesse is running around stamping on the embers, before the tinder dry Mesquite can catch alight. "Chill, Mr White, okay yo", Walt just shakes his head and sits back down in his camp chair, Jesse hadn't changed a bit from when he was in Walt's chemistry class, always goofing off, never paying attention, not applying himself to the task at hand. It was frustrating as Walt had seen the potential in Jesse back then, and more recently when they had started cooking together. If he would only take things a bit more seriously and concentrate his attention on what he was supposed to be doing, Walt knew Jesse could become a fine meth cook, at least he took some pride in the top quality product they were cooking.

"Ah Mr. White, we got visitors, there's a car heading this way." Walt stands up and looks in the direction Jesse is pointing. A dust trail is winding it's way toward them and as Walt observes, a black Cadillac comes into view heading straight for the RV. Walt goes back into the RV and emerges with the handgun, he spins the cylinder checking that all the chambers are loaded and flips the safety off, Walt exchanges a look with Jesse, the young man has a worried expression on his face, maybe Tuco's Cartel connections had tracked them down somehow. The approaching car pulls up and the driver kills the Cadillac's engine. Two men of Latin American descent, dressed in expensive suits, exit the car. They approach Walt and Jesse silently, one of the men is holding a semi automatic Uzi 9 mm covering them, the other man gestures at the revolver Walt is holding and he hands it to the man who puts the safety back on and puts into a pocket inside his expensively tailored suit jacket. He pats down Jesse and Walt and when he is satisfied they have no other weapons, he turns to the Cadillac and nods. The rear door of the car opens and a woman steps out, early thirties, immaculately dressed, Latin American, stunning looks, there is an air of strength, confidence and a fiery sexuality about the dark haired Latin beauty. She addresses Walt directly "Mr. Heisenberg I presume?”

"Heading down Ventura highway/ Albuquerque I'm on my way/ my girlfriend sent me a telegram/Oh yeah baby I'm in a jam/Wild scenes from Albuquerque."  
Albuquerque - Wild Scenes. By garage punk band The Psychotic Turnbuckles.


	2. Pura De Venta (Pure For Sale).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After concluding Cartel business in Albuquerqe, Santeria Silveria investigates Heisenberg and his Blue Crystal as a favour for one of the Colombian Cocaine Cartel's associates.

Chapter Two: Pura De Venta. (Pure For Sale)

Four Hours Earlier.

The black Cadillac is parked outside an abandoned industrial warehouse. Inside Santeria Silvera is talking to two men, gagged, with their hands bound behind their back, kneeling on the floor. Her bodyguards Ramon and Esteban are standing behind the two bound men, Esteban is holding an Uzi 9 mm. and Ramon has a handgun trained on them. Santeria is speaking Spanish to the two men, she speaks in a precise, clipped manner "Se les advirtio de las consecuencias si no dejas de realizar negocios en mi territorio de asociados. No pueden permitirse ser visto a la falta de control, su muerte servira como una advertencia a otros que piensan que pueden desafiar el monopolio de que mis asociados tienen en este territorio." The two gagged men are pleading unintelligibly, their eyes wide. Santeria nods at Ramon, who pulls back the slide action on his handgun. He places the gun to the side of the head of the first man whose muffled screams increase in intensity. Santeria and Esteban back off a few paces to avoid the blood spatter, the screaming man stares into Santeria's eyes, they are of such a dark brown they appear nearly black, like a shark, cold and emotionless. She nods to Ramon and he pulls the trigger, the unsilenced shot echoes loudly through the abandoned warehouse and the man's blood and brains spatter wetly across his companion's face and the man screams even louder through his gag until the bullet from Ramon's gun silences him forever.

Santeria sits in silent contemplation as they leave the industrial area and head back into Albuquerqe's suburban streets. Why, she thought, do these fools continually challenge the authority of her employers, the Medellin Cartel, when the consequences always led to the execution of those who thought they were strong enough to issue such a challenge. Even the Federales were smart enough to take their bribes and look the other way, at least until some crusading politician gets voted into office and decides they will be the one to bring down the Cartels and orders mass raids and arrests, such politicians were all usually the victims of rather unfortunate accidents and things would return to normal until the next crusading fool came along.

"Two gringos up ahead, they're selling, could be what we're looking for" Ramon says to Santeria, she doesn't need to ask Ramon how he knows the two are selling, she can smell it a mile away, the two gringos couldn't have been more obvious if they were holding signs saying Drugs Available Here. "OK check it out" she orders Ramon, Esteban who is driving stops the car at the street corner opposite the two men. Ramon winds down his window and gestures to the two men. The shorter, skinny one approaches the vehicle. "You buying?" Skinny Pete asks Ramon. "Crystal, an ounce, I'm looking for the Blue". "You've like come to the right place my man, I can hook you up" replies Skinny Pete "2500, yo" Ramon just stares coolly back at the skinny dealer, "Hey it's mad scante bro, uncut, this shiz is the bomb", Ramon nods his acceptance and Skinny Pete runs back across the street to where Badger is chilling "Your class of clientele is definitely on the up bro" Badger observes, Skinny Pete checks up and down the street, no cops are to be seen, he goes over to a trash basket and takes out a paper Los Polos Hermanos take out bag. He goes back over to the parked Cadillac and hands the bag to Ramon, the Colombian takes the bag and inspects the contents, a multitude of small packets containing the blue crystal meth, he opens one of the packets and dips his finger into the deal bag, extracting a minute fragment of the crystal and tastes it. "Pure, uncut scante, yo" Skinny Pete assures the Colombian gangster. Ramon takes a small set of electronic scales and weighs the take out sack, the reading on the scales shows the bag to weigh slightly more than an ounce, allowing for the take out bag and the dimebags, the weight was right. Ramon hands Skinny Pete two sets of hundred dollar bills banded in groups of ten and peels five more bills out and hands them to the drug dealer. Ramon rolls his window back up and Esteban drives away. Skinny Pete goes back over to his friend. "What say we head back to my crib and smoke up a few bowls, bro?" "Dude, you know Jesse said no bomb, no beer, no weed when we're working, I could go for a bowl sure, but like I don't wanta blow this deal with Jesse man" replied Badger. "Retard, I just moved an ounce in one go, my whole weeks slinging in five minutes, so what up with it homey, back to my casa and partake, we are taking the day off" Badger high fives Skinny Pete " Good deal mover, in that case bro, like lead the way, it's time to parrtayyy" The two tweakers walk off in the direction of home.

The black Cadillac is parked in the drive of a house in a very upmarket suburb of Albuquerqe, the cars in neighbouring driveways are Cadillacs, B.M.W.'s, Mercedes, Ferrari's. Sitting in the back of the Cadillac with Santeria is a middle aged man of South American origin, he is dressed in expensive casual clothes, the wrist watch he wears is worth thousands. He takes one of the dimebags from the take out bag, using a small pair of forceps he removes a piece of the blue crystal and places it inside a small test tube, he takes a small bottle of liquid from a leather case and using an eyedropper he squeezes a few drops of the solution into the tube. Capping the test tube with a rubber stopper he shakes it vigorously for a few seconds. He removes a strip of litmus paper from the leather case and dips it into the blue solution. After a few minutes he examines the litmus paper, "It is high quality, very pure at least eighty five percent, probably more. To be sure of the exact percentage I would have to run a sample through a gas chromatograph." " The exact percentage is not important, the knowledge of it's purity is all I require, I appreciate this small service you have performed" Santeria assuresThe Chemist. This was not the usual focus of her "business" activities, but she was in Albuquerque on her own errand, which she had just dealt with, and this task she was performing as a favour to an associate, the Cartel had it's allies in New Mexico, and this was a goodwill mission of sorts, if the Cartel ever needed a favour in return, the associate would be only to happy to help out. Especially when it involved their rivals in the Mexican Cartels

She bade The Chemist good day, and wished his family well and he went back inside his house. Santeria takes out her cell phone and dials a number, and begins to speak "The car found at Hector Salamanca's house is registered to a Jesse Bruce Pinkman, 23 years of age. The D.E.A. took him in for questioning, he reported that his car was stolen, and he had an alibi for the time of Tuco Salamnca's demise. He was released without charge. My D.E.A. contact can find no record of anyone named Heisenberg. Mr Pinkman is not at his home address, my contact in the phone company is running a trace on Pinkman's cell phone, and I will have his location shortly. I will make contact when I have more information." She ends the call and a few seconds later the phone beeps it's message tone. She inspects the SMS and hands the phone to Ramon in the front seat. "GPS co-ordinates, the location of Pinkman's cell phone" Ramon programs the co-ordinates into the dash mounted GPS tracker and Esteban starts the Cadillac and pulls out into the street.

"You hear the sound of footsteps/stealing acroos the floor/you pick up the receiver/you didn't know what for/then you saw the shadow/steppin' through the door/Well don't worry baby/what the world may bring/Well don't worry baby/it won't change a thing/Life is to fly and then you die."  
Don't Worry Baby. By Los Lobos.


End file.
